Fiction

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Dark Places Imagined, Found

jasonwhitaker29171 · October 17, 2019 · Fiction, writing · #drama, #friends, #night, Fiction, writing · No Comments

The bright lights of the fireworks exploding overhead light the path in front of me. I slowly walk away from the sounds of the crowds cheering towards a darkened woods. Is this where my story ends? I have no idea what I will do once I reach that place in this trail where I’ll be out of sight and out of earshot of anyone, not that anyone could hear me over the fireworks and celebration or notice me with all of the celebrating, but my feet keep moving me forward.

Where did this begin but with a dare and a question. We’ve heard the tales and we’ve seen the images of people missing but it’s not like we knew any of them. They were strangers on the news, news that became background noise as we sat around thankful for the end of another day, until it was one of us.

This story will neither begin well or end well for any of us. This is one of those dark places imagined, found.

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Untitled New Story

jasonwhitaker29171 · October 11, 2019 · Fiction · #California, #drama, #memory, #night, #past, #story, Fiction · No Comments

I found myself on a Greyhound leaving the bright lights of the city for a place I’ve only heard about in stories. What brought about my exodus is another story. This is the story of how a gay boy went to live with his conservative grandparents. This is your warning: reading this story may result in unexpected tears.

The bus that brings me to my final stop, my destination, is less than full. Most of the people that began this journey with me those many miles ago have departed for other points of interest.

I remained seated as the bus pulls into the station. This was not part of my vision board. I had dreams that did not include leaving the hope of civilization behind for the uncertainty of a small town in the south.

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This Now…

jasonwhitaker29171 · August 1, 2019 · Fiction, writing, poetry, writing · #emotions, #FlashFiction, #GayWriter, #images, #LGBT, #LGBTWriter, #music, #poem, #songs, #SouthCarolina, #West Columbia, #words, #writer, #YAfiction, Fiction, poetry, writing

I have been waiting for so long

to tell you everything

but at these times

the words fail me somehow.

If I could take back

what I’ve done,

reverse the years

to spare you the tears,

I would do anything

to do it all again.

I cannot pretend to understand

having someone like me

is like having no one at all

but here we are

and we’re all we’ve got

in this World.

So, let’s start new

with here and now

and see where things

take us now.

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Gone

jasonwhitaker29171 · July 15, 2019 · Fiction, writing · #boyfriend, #FlashFiction, #GayWriter, #LGBT, #LGBTWriter, #ShortStory, #SouthCarolina, #story, #West Columbia, #words, #writer, #YAfiction, Fiction, writing

The house shakes with each gust of wind, the thunder echoing throughout the empty house, and I stare out into the dark wondering if I’ll ever see him again.

It was a minor disagreement that led to him storming out of the house. I could have stopped him from leaving but part of me was uncertain if I wanted him to remain. Now the part of me that remained silent misses him…

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Short Stories

jasonwhitaker29171 · July 1, 2019 · Fiction, writing · #boyfriend, #cock, #comedy, #depression, #drama, #emotions, #fantasy, #gaysex, #GayWriter, #hate, #identity, #images, #LGBT, #LGBTWriter, #love, #lover, #masturbation, #music, #past, #sex, #ShortStory, #story, #Summer, #West Columbia, #words, #writer, #YA, #YAfiction, Fiction

I am posting short stories to my Patreon…

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Into the Woods

jasonwhitaker29171 · June 29, 2019 · Fiction, writing · #boyfriend, #fantasy, #GayWriter, #LGBT, #LGBTWriter, #love, #lover, #sex, #ShortStory, #SouthCarolina, #story, #West Columbia, #words, #writer, #YAfiction, Fiction

The embers of the fire glow as if alive. The fire is almost dead. Smoke rises in a few places. I sit on a log nearby watching. It’s late in the evening and I’m here alone watching a fire die out.

The rest of the troop is elsewhere.

Earlier in the night we scattered through the trees hiding as other seeked. I walked slowly through the woods trying to avoid the random branch. I can smell the scents of camping. The smell of trees and the smell of nearby camp fires.

I begin to hide by myself when he appeared…

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Once Upon a Memory

jasonwhitaker29171 · June 27, 2019 · Fiction, writing · #boyfriend, #fantasy, #gaysex, #GayWriter, #identity, #LGBT, #LGBTWriter, #love, #lover, #sex, #ShortStory, #SouthCarolina, #West Columbia, #words, #writer, #YA, #YAfiction, Fiction

When I close my eyes I remember the beginning. The scars remain but so do the memories. I’m told that things will get better but memories are not as easy to heal.

The lights are off in his house. I can hear the rest of his family asleep throughout the house. I’m sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag. It feels like I’m camping.

He’s in his bed. I’m on the floor next to his bed. I wonder if he’s asleep but I’m unwilling to sit up and look. It’s a quiet night. The absence of extraneous sounds only amplifies the relevant sounds.

Shall I name him? A person from memory? Is this memory what actually happened or a fictionalized version that my brain has created?

I don’t know what time it is. He moves in his bed. I hear him because I’ve been listening in anticipation of hearing him move, which means that he could be awake. I’ve waited for this moment. The first time could have been one of those once in a lifetime moments.

I close my eyes because it’s like a scary movie where you want to know what happens next but you’re afraid to see it actually take place. I close my eyes tightly.

I feel his breath upon my neck. His mouth is so close to my neck that I can feel the warmth of his breath…

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Where We Once Walked…

jasonwhitaker29171 · June 18, 2019 · Fiction, writing · #depression, #drama, #emotions, #gaysex, #GayWriter, #LGBT, #LGBTWriter, #LosAngeles, #love, #sex, #SouthCarolina, #words, #writer, Fiction

The bus moves slowly through the town that I once called home. I’ve been sleeping since I left the place I was but now here I am uncertain of what’s next. I could say that moving back here was a part of a greater plan but when have I ever planned anything?

The trees where I once ran between remain. The park still as green as when I was here once so many years ago.

I remember that last night spent here with him. We were in love but my life called me away.

The bus stops and for a moment I consider remaining on the bus. I could go to another town. I could live the rest of my life without returning here…

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